Patient 19013
by Haydron
Summary: AH/AU. Patient 19013. The one everyone dreads dealing with. So it seemed only fair in their twisted minds, to lump him with the new work experience student--namely me. Pandemonium results. Rated M for possible lemons.
1. Damn Jessica to hell

**Patient 19013**

**Disclaimer: Me? Own Twilight? hahahaha, good one! I'd be swanning of to Hawaii not remaining where I currently am....Thus making me a penniless fan :)**

**Summary: AH/AU. Patient 19013. The one everyone dreads dealing with it. So it seemed only fair in their twisted minds, to lump him with the new work experience student--namely me. Pandemonium results. Rated M for possible lemons.**

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"OK class," the teacher announced. "Lecture's over. Make sure you read chapters eighteen to thirty by next class. A quiz might be in order!"

Was he kidding? Chapters _eighteen _to thirty by next Friday?! That's a whole hundred and twenty-two pages of squinty writing I had to get through on top of my last assignment that failed to reach my teacher's desk by deadline day. I was only managing to hang onto the course by the skin of my teeth and this was just freshman year!

"Come on, Bella," Alice waited impatiently by my seat as I struggled to stand up. "We need to go sign our names up before all the good jobs are taken! You don't want to end up as a gravedigger, do you?"

I finally managed to get up, messily arranging my equally illiterate notes into an unorganised pile before sweeping it into my arms. "You're joking, aren't you?" I asked, with brows furrowed. "There's actually a gravedigger's spot going available?"

Alice was teasing as she followed me out of our row, only to have our path blocked by the few who'd rather stand in the middle of the way and chat. "With the amount of interest you're giving this, it almost seems that gravedigger's jobs taken. You're gonna crush Mike's hopes. You know he's always wanted to work in a cemetery."

I turned around to scowl at Alice and her cute smile, knowing her well enough to see through her innocent act. I was so busy glaring that I didn't notice I was being called, until a finger nudged me from the back.

"Yo Arizona," a voice breathed in my ear before I twitched uncomfortably. "Mr Warner looks like he wants to eat you up."

Alice's grin, if it was even possible, got even wider as she saw the man behind me. "Mike!" she greeted warmly despite my death-stare. "We were just talking about you!"

"All good, I hope," he laughed back before leaning and whispering into my ear once again. That did it. When I found the nearest bar of soap I was going to scrub my ear till the end of Sahara. "Except you, Bella.....You can have as many bad thoughts about me, as you want...."

His words were so cliche it was almost sad. Could Mike honestly never give up? I was and never will be interested in him, whether I'm seventeen, twenty or eighty. A part of me told me to shut up and suck up Mike's flirting like a man. If you squinted a bit, Mike might even seem rather.....handsome. Some people would've even be flattered that such a guy was hitting on them......but then the said person would have to be blind, deaf and severely lacking in a good lay to get past that annoying blabbering.

It was then I became aware that another, deeper voice was calling my name.....or rather my surname, but it didn't stop me getting whiplash all the same from trying to see who it was.

"Is Miss Swan here? She's been marked present and I urgently need to talk about her end-of-term report...." The sight of Mr Warner tapping a pen against a clipboard and surveying the large lecture room was beyond terrifying. For one, Mr Warner was only six years my senior and extremely good-looking. Two, the usual smile he had on his face had totally disappeared and three, he was saying my _name _with that pensive expression.

That can't be good, right?

"You guys go ahead," I nodded as I started to walk away from Alice and Mike towards the front. I think Mike wanted to call out that he'd wait for me, but Alice thankfully grabbed him tightly by the elbow was was giving her version of the indian burn. That gave me all the room I needed to slowly approach the mysterious and very much _fanciable _Mr Warner like a rabbit might approach a fox.

I watched him scan the room once again before connecting eyes with me. Giving me a brief, but polite smile that sent my heart soaring he continued his search of the room for the all elusive Bella Swan. Little did he know that she was standing just short of four feet away from him and looking rather stupid. I cleared my throat slightly and felt pleased when his blue eyes flew back round to me meet mine again, this time with understanding.

"Miss....Swan?" he asked hesitantly.

"That's me," I smiled but let it drop when he began looking at me weirdly again. Doing whatever a girl does when she's nervous (ie cursing silently) I looked behind him at the PowerPoint awkwardly. Could the definition for Enthalpy be any more interesting as it did at that moment? Apparently not.

"Miss Swan, I'm well aware that we're in college now and that rules can be bent a little provided they don't become a daily occurrence--" He shot me a pointed glance, "But we've nearly completed an academic year and I've yet to see _any w_ork from you, first drafts excluded since September. I'm slightly worried for you, Miss Swan. You do realise the final deadline for _everything _is in three weeks time?"

I nodded gloomily and willed myself not to burst into tears. Everywhere I looked there were posters pinned to the wall, the chair, even the _bathroom cubicles _all certifying when the final deadline was going to be. It made me panic, realising that I'd fallen behind so much that I was going to regret this year for the rest of my life. Most of the time I _did _get to do work was in break-times or whenever Charlie was sleeping upstairs and didn't need anything.

Mr Warner, seeing that I looked ready to cry, let his eyes soften considerably. "Bella...." he said, "I realise you've had it tough this year but even _I _can only let you fail so far, before wading in to help you. Do you need any private sessions? I'll be willing to help you. Wondering how to go about answering the objectives? Even better. I've got them committed to memory so darn it if I can't show that off at least _once, _before the end of year."

His joke made me laugh a little, and any thoughts of how he knew my first name when let alone an hour ago he couldn't place my face, skipped my mind entirely. Instead I smiled up at him before glancing at my watch and cursing.

"Shoot!I'm late to sign for signing which job I want for work experience! All the good ones would've gone by now!"

Truth be told, I rather wanted to escape _him _or rather the intense pitter-patter of my heart as it swooned in love. Could it be right for a student to be lusting after a teacher? It went against all moral codes! So sure he wasn't old enough to be my dad, but old enough to be a _strong, protective brother...._Aw stuff it. The chances of me ever seeing him as a brother were slim to none. He was my teacher, plain and simple. A hot one at that, but what did I care? It wasn't like I was going to act on a stupid whimsical crush....

Mr Warner smiled at me, and I couldn't but gasp inwardly at how page-3 boy he looked. God, this was wrong to the highest degree....

"It's alright, Bella. You can go. We'll pick this up another time."

I was already running to the door by then, waving an awkward arm behind me whilst I tried not to let my book slip from my hands. Running through the building was a nightmare. Everytime I saw a rare person, I would slow down my running and pretend I was walking all along, not wanting to be yelled at un-necessarily. The moment they were out of sight though, I was running like a cat on fire.

Turning the last corner to the massive noticeboard out in the hallway, I jogged to the piece of paper pinned to it and bent over, trying to reclaim my breath. "Shoot," I gasped, "I need a pen...."

Fishing one out of my bag was a different story altogether. Peering teary-eyed at the notice-board I desperately peered at the list of two hundred names already written. "No, No, No..." I quietly groaned when I noticed surgical accomplice (my number one choice) had been taken. Pharmacist, doctor's assistant and chemical engineer had all been taken as well. Alongside every other assistant concerning medicine or chemical technocracy's. With hollow mirth, I realised even grave-digger had been snapped up by none other than our very own Mike Newton.

"Okay, Damage control...." I muttered, running my uncapped pen down the list for the scant jobs that had yet to be taken. Good, florist had yet to be taken alongside pianist cleaning. Two jobs that I wasn't keen on but was MUCH better than signing for the only other one that hadn't been taken.....an assistant at the local Mental Institution Ward. Whoever put that up there, was clearly flogging a dead horse. Who would want to end up surrounded by mad people?!

"Florist, or pianist cleaner..." I deliberated, chewing on my lip so hard that I didn't notice the pen being plucked right out of hand. It was only till I was unceremoniously shoved aside did I notice my surroundings.

"Sorry, doll," Jessica breezed in, not sounding sorry at all. She bent over and wrote her name by the florist slot, her tongue sticking out in concentration.

"What are you doing?" I asked, all of a sudden petrified as Jessica went on to scrawl Lauren's name by the pianist slot. My glares would have been so toxic that I was surprised her brownish-red hair hadn't caught on fire yet. She turned around to face me and I couldn't help but sink back in oppression. How could I argue against a barbie, a short-skirt wearing, wild-party-lovin' kind of variety?

It was potentially suicidal.

"Aw gee," she said in mock resignation, "So you end up at the loony bin, poor girl."

Er, hello? If you hadn't grabbed my pen and shoved me out of the way this wouldn't even be happening!

"A Mental Institute...." I said faintly before deciding to make an re-acquaintance with my long lost friend----the floor.

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**Reviews are love :) Love makes an author feel happy....and ecstatic authors are more likely to update quicker.....**

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	2. Facing the same nightmare

"Honestly love, there's no need to worry. He won't bite."

WON'T BITE?!?! Huh, so why don't I see _you _first in line?! Why send in the newbie, who has no _freakin' _clue what she's doing!!

"Thaaat's it. Steady on now. Just walk up to the door and punch the code in...."

My body betrayingly complies with the commands although I was feeling a violent urge to sock her one, just to get rid of that patronising tone in her voice. But do I do what I want? No. Do I do everything that lady with frightful orange lipstick and badly permed haid says? Yep, I wouldn't have it a_ny other way...._

The sarcasm is already think and heavy in my mind. Not a good sign to be working with, folks.

Just short of the ten-feet gridlock door, I paused and inclined my head back over my shoulder. Strangely, the sterile desk and equally creepy computer had vanished. Instead my tormenter sat seated in a swivelly chair, legs propped on the arm rest. Beside her hippie-styled clothes, a cup of strong tea hovered by her side-- an invisible platform keeping it afloat.

"Can I at least see the file?" I asked timidly.

When the lady started cackling wickedly I began to realise there was something off with the whole situation. What was with the spotlight fixed upon her, magnifying her bristly chin and large spectacles to all their glory? Inbetween those horrendous spurts of laughing, she managed to pause long enough to shout "NO!" before resuming her cackling once more. Seriously, what the hell?

I blinked against my will, and gasped when I realised the entire scene had changed. I was in a six-by-four cell with a double bunk-bed at the side and a blank TV facing it. As I watched, the TV switched on by itself and with a thrill of terror I realised it was the grainy images of the room similar to the one I was in. My eyes widened even more when I realised I could see myself on the black-and-white screen dressed in some mucky overalls and a pertified expression on my face.

What the bleeding feck?

Crouching down, so I could determine exactly where this aerial source was coming from, I stared intently at the screen. God, why oh why, did I watch Saw III the other day? This whole scenario was just giving me goosebumps just thinking about it. Didn't that police lady get filmed like this before being kidnapped by Saw...?

I was so fixated on the projectorial version of myself, that when I let my eyes flicker to the lower bunk bed directly behind me, the loudest scream known to man errupted from my mouth.

Because, I swear to God, I'd just seen a man lying on the bed behind me. On screen.

Almost tripping over myself, I spun around and stared frantically at the space behind me.

Nothing. There was bloody nothing! The sour quilt on the lower bunk remained undented. There was no inclination that anybody had been sleeping on it for months, let alone the past few hours. So why the hell did I see the man? Was my mind playing tricks on me?

I turned back to face the TV once more and breathed a sigh of relief when the empty space behind me was reflected just that. Jeez, I was getting paranoid already. Now I had to just coast this dream till daybreak and hope nothing eerie of the sort happened again. Little did I realise, that I'd spoken too soon.

The moment I blinked my eyes and opened them again, the man was behind me. _Directly _behind me. Not lying, but _sitting. _The way the light from the ceiling above glinted off his ends, proved he was brunette and _holy shit, he's reaching for my neck......_

This time the shriek was for real.

"Bella, Bella, BELLA?!"

I came too, very much disorientated and Charlie's panicked voice ringing in my ears. If this had been a decade ago, he'd have been beside my bedside in a shot. But now it was _me _trailing to his bedroom, to prove that everything was okay and all I'd had was one silly little, albiet frighteningly _real _dream.

"You okay, Charlie?"

My father blinked up from underneath his duvet, the one I had placed so stragecially over him earlier having slipped to his hips during the night. His eyes stared worringly back at me as I attempted a half-pleasant smile. "Here, let me get you sorted...."

Plumping up his pillows was old routine. Tucking back the duvet under his chin was soothing. Oddly the familair routine had me relaxing and by the end I was perched my his feet and staring up the bed at him.

"I'm sorry, Bella...."Charlie whispered in the early dimness of the morning. "For not being able to help you when you needed to be helped....Instead it's all down to you....To do _everything."_

I felt a spark of indignation slur in my chest and I reached out to grab his clammy hand fiercely. "Hey, you shouldn't apolgise for something out of your control, okay? So, you got involved in a car accident and a need a little help here and there. I can handle it. So, don't you dare worry, okay? I'll always be here, Charlie"

Charlie looked ready to cry as I shifted uncomfotably under his wet-eyed-stare. As he sniffed, I pretended not to hear him, by fluffing up my hair and tucking it behind my ears. "You know....I could always give my first day at the Institute a miss...You know, to help out."

Charlie reacted so fiercely that it almost threw me in shock. "Don't you dare! Just because my life's come grinding to halt, doesn't mean both of ours have too! I want you to go out there, kid and do me proud. I'll be fine here with the nurse, trust me."

Aw shucks, Charlie was making me feel guilty without even realising it. When I'd offered to stay behind to look after him, I'd been desperately hoping he'd say yes. Those progressively getting worse nightmares was beginning to freak me out about the Institute before I'd even set foot in the damn joint! And now....Charlie telling me to go out and do him proud....What could I say to that? _Aw dad....I'm too scared....Can't I just go color pictures of Paddington bear instead?_

I was a near grown woman dammit. I shouldn't let a poxy little work experience stint faze me.

Easier said than done.

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At eight o'clock in the morning, I let the nurse in just as I was heading out, pulling up my hood the moment I hit the cool air. If any of my neighbours were hiding behind their netted curtains, peering into the grim morning they'd be sure to be watching me closely. Anyone wearing a hood in the middle of July didn't bode well with the them.

Deciding against my truck as a mode of transport, I decided to walk down my street to the nearest bus station. As much as I loved that old piece of junk, the idea of driving it to a place I was not familiar with and spending hours finding the perfect parking spot seemed unappealing.

I was already having violent nightmares about the place as it was. Did I really need to add to my apprehension?

Everybody on board, when the bus finally rolled around, seemed determined not to meet my eyes. Instead they blindly stared out of the window, occasionally nodding their heads to the plugged in earphones silently wailing into their years or trying to read the latest headline screaming out of their newspapers. As I passed a man completely bypassing the latest news about the Hurricane down by San Andreas fault-line, I wondered if he'd become so immunised to bad news he didn't feel the need to read about them anymore. Instead it was straight to the Sports Section as if Ronaldo's billions seemed more appetizing to his greedy hands.

I skipped the empty seat beside him and headed deeper into the bus instead. So fast, that both aisles beside me were becoming a blur. It was only when I caught a flash of brunette out of the corner of my eye did I spin around and nearly loose balance as the bus revved into life.

There was nobody there. There was the brightly patterned seat, and a pepsi bottle shy of spilling on it but definitely not a person.

I was beginning to hate the jumpy/paronoid person I'd been reduced too. This was getting beyond a joke.

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"Honestly love, there's no need to worry. He won't bite."

My heart beat louder and heavier as the familiar words echoed in my head. Was this my imagination or had the lady behind the agonisingly bleak desk truly spoke?

"Are you alright, love?"

My imagination then.

The woman shot me a weird look. I could almost picture the fag hanging out of the corner of her brightly painted lips. Her elegantly chifoned hair was coming out into wisps already and I tried to ignore the eerie bang of a door somewhere in the distance. If I hadn't known what this place....was, I'd have guessed it was a deary hosiptal for the elderly. Everything just seemed so....dull. The gray painted walls. The equally bland floor. Even the pitiful attempts of livening the front foyer up had gone tragically wrong. The flowers that were meant to bring color and zest just drooped wearily in their vases.

Gee, I was trying really hard to find a positive here and nothing was giving me a head-start.

"Yeah, I'm fine..." I said distractedly, trying to locate where the staff kitchen was. Wherever it was located, it was hidden well. The only doors I could see around here was the entrance doors. _"_Do you want some coffee? I can do double cream, Latte or Moche."

"Excuse me?"

The lady looked offended and too late I realised she probably thought I viewed her as disabled. Why would she assume that from my offer of goodwill?!

"For my work experience?" I prompted, "From Forks College? I assume there's a lot of coffee making involved."

"And why would you assume that?"

Holy crap, this lady was taking seriousness to a whole new level. If her eyes could murder me, I'd be standing here with sixteen stab wounds already. Or collapsed with my limbs missing. That'd be a more appropriate image.

"Er....no reason. It's just I'm hardly qualified to be doing the nitty gritty stuff so I thought I'd prepare myself for being the---" _Go around._

My voice trailed off as I began to notice I was not helping myself any matters. Digging a bigger hole, would be the correct expression, if I wanted to be technical. The receptionist gritted her teeth so hard, I swear to god, I heard a distant _pop. _Agitatedly she reached for a file on top of many equally thin file and shoved it towards me.

"Since you seem so determined to serve coffee, go check if Patient 19013 wants some. I think you'd find his answer rather....._realistic."_

Did I just hear her right? Did she just utter the words patient and _go check _in the same breath? Surely she must be twisting my leg, wanting to teach me a lesson about speaking out of turn and offending my elders? I couldn't be sure to whether grab the file and pretend to know what I was doing or start laughing until she joined me. What would Alice do? Probably kick this lady's ass for being so unpleasant but did _I _truly have the balls to follow her small, admittedly fiercesome, footsteps?

The answer was sadly no.

"W-What?" I squeaked.

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**Thanks for the reviews! They motivated me to post the next chapter weeelll before I planned :P**

**Yep, Eddie's our mental patient. I can almost hear you guys rubbing your hands with glee at the thought of a "realisitic" Edward. Who wouldn't? :)**

**Soz to the gramerts (grammar/experts mashed t'gther)--- spell check is being weird on me, so I'll come back to a later date & correct all those baddies out there--**


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